


Find Your Way Back (To Me)

by rhyaenv



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Asexual Sam Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Post-Stanford, Pre-Relationship, Requited Unrequited Love, Season/Series 01, Slow To Update, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5422892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhyaenv/pseuds/rhyaenv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s come to realize that the feelings he had for Dean before he left for Stanford are still there, that they were never really gone, no matter how much he had tried to ignore and bury them.</p><p>Things have been tense between them lately, and he’s noticed how Dean’s been acting weird around him too, and tonight is no exception. Dean’s gone off to find the nearest bar, and Sam's been left behind in their motel room, alone, wondering how he’s managed to make everything feel so wrong between him and Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love ace!Sam with all my heart, and Wincest, so I decided to combine the two into a fic that was also set post-Stanford (or, really, just set at some indiscernible point in S1). 
> 
> This fic's title was changed from " _Don't You Get It? You're All I Can See_ " to " _Find Your Way Back (To Me)_ " on January 22, 2017.

“Okay,” Sam began as he closed the door behind him and walked back into the motel room Dean had booked them less than five hours ago, “so, I went to the local library, and after doing some research, I’m thinking we might be dealing with a…” he paused as soon as he took notice that Dean was standing at the foot of his bed, putting on his jacket. 

Sam instantly knew what it meant: Dean was going out. 

But Sam still found himself asking with a slight frown, “What’re you doing?” 

Dean finally turned to glance at him, but Sam noticed Dean wasn’t looking him in the eye as he shrugged and casually replied, unsurprisingly, “I’m going out.” 

“What?” Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Dean, we have a case here and you’re going out?” 

“No, we have a _possible_ case,” Dean corrected with a rather stern look on his face that caught Sam off guard, “so I’m gonna head on out, maybe do a lil’ recon to see if we’re really dealing with something supernatural here.” 

Sam’s chest clenched tightly, and his next words slipped past his lips before he could hold them back, “Fine. Let me change so I can join you.” 

Dean raised a hand to stop him and the simple action made Sam freeze. “Don’t,” Dean finally replied. “Just…stay here and do whatever you want. I’ll be fine on my own.” 

The words were like a punch to the gut. 

A protest rested on the tip of Sam’s tongue, but he held back and merely gave a small, resigned sigh. He averted his gaze and slowly walked towards his bed. “Just… Keep your phone with you, okay? If anything happens, give me a call, alright?” 

“Sure,” the word was thrown carelessly, and Sam felt his heart lurch because he understood the underlying implication behind the single word.

Dean was very likely going to turn off his phone as soon as he got to the bar. He wasn’t going to be calling Sam anytime soon. By the way things were going right now, Sam wasn’t going to be able to reach Dean until tomorrow morning, when Dean would return to their motel room after spending the night somewhere else. 

A raw heaviness settled deep in Sam’s chest as he sat down on the edge of his bed. His shoulders drooped and any attempt to hide just how dejected he actually felt from Dean vanished—no, Sam felt too tired to even try now. And a part of Sam’s mind sneered, _Why bother? It’s not like he’s even paying attention to you right now._

Sam said nothing as he hung his head, but he could faintly hear Dean’s footsteps as he walked towards the door. And just as his brother opened the door, Sam dared to look up at Dean’s back and say quietly, “Just… Be careful, Dean.” 

Dean froze for a solid two seconds, not bothering to turn back around, before he merely walked out and shut the door behind him. 

Sam looked at down at his hands as they rested in his lap and he couldn’t help but feel like someone had stuck a knife into his neck and carved his chest wide open for all to see. But what pained Sam the most was the thought that the person who’d done so was his own brother. That Dean was the one who made him feel like someone was gripping his heart and steadily squeezing it tighter and tighter. 

_But you know it’s not really his fault,_ another voice in his head taunted. _You know you’re to blame._

Sam let out a shaky exhale as his hands reached up to comb though his hair. 

Everything felt wrong between them as of late, like their interactions were strained, awkward, and they had been for a bit over a week now. For a while, Sam had tried to convinced himself that he had no idea what could’ve possibly happened to cause the change in their relationship, but frankly, Sam had a strong inkling as to what specific event was to blame. But even so, Sam didn’t know exactly _why_ that event had caused Dean to become so aloof recently. Even worse, Sam had no idea how he was supposed to fix everything when it seemed like Dean couldn’t even stand to be anywhere near him lately, much less in the same room. 

Tonight being a prime example of that.

 _Did you see him?_ The voice from before returned. _It was like he couldn’t run fast enough away from you. He probably_ knows, _and I bet he thinks you’re sick. He probably regrets getting you back._

Sam closed his eyes and breathed in for a moment. And after letting out a deep exhale, he got up to go grab his laptop.

For now, he’d focus on the case.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize immensely for nearly taking a whole year to update this fic. But, at last, here’s chapter two (this time from Dean’s POV); I hope you all enjoy the chapter, please leave a comment if you do! 
> 
> Also, I’d like to dedicate this chapter to [Cubi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cubi/pseuds/Cubi)—thank you so much for your kind comments on chapter one! And I'd also like to give a huge thank you to [Charlie_Waits](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Waits/pseuds/Charlie_Waits)—this chapter would not have been possible without your help, thank you! ♥

As Dean took a seat inside the Impala and closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath. He felt like he’d been holding his breath for hours now, but really, the interaction only moments ago with Sam had completely exhausted him. His head was throbbing slightly now as well, and honestly, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he got a full-blown headache soon.

For a split second, Dean thought about merely staying in the Impala for a few hours before heading back to their motel room, but the idea of staying even this close to Sam right now was unbearable. No, Dean wanted to get as far away from Sam as he possibly could right now—he had to, or he felt like he might fall apart.

With a sigh, Dean pulled out the keys to the Impala and turned her on. She rumbled to life and Dean didn’t hesitate to put her in drive and take off to the nearest bar he could find.

But now that he was back on the road, with only the soft, familiar sounds of the Impala to comfort him, Dean couldn’t stop his mind from thinking back to Sam.

 

• • •

 

After Jessica’s death, things between them had been different. Dean had wondered why exactly that was at first, but as he saw just how sad and hurt Sam was in the weeks that followed, he figured it was likely because Sam was grieving—that his little brother was mourning the loss of his girlfriend.

It was no secret that he hated seeing Sam in pain, so Dean had tried his best to be there for his little brother. And in time, thankfully, Sam did seem to get better. 

He’d smile and laugh more, and he’d even joke around with Dean like before—and honestly, seeing the light return to his brother’s eyes made Dean’s own heart swell in joy. 

But then months later, Sam found them a case in western Oregon, and in one night, everything just went to hell. 

 

Unsurprisingly, at the end of everything, it’d just been a lone demon stirring up some trouble in the city of Salem, Oregon. The demon had been possessing the body of a young woman, and she’d been killing men and women left and right, apparently just for the fun of it. It’d taken them nearly two entire days to finally find and capture her. 

They’d tied her up to a chair and everything had been going smoothly until Sam had begun chanting the exorcism to exorcise the demon out of the woman. 

Her eyes had gone black and she’d started screaming.

“Have you told your brother, Sam?” she’d yelled out a moment after as her gaze locked onto Sam, her features were tinged with pain but her lips were contorted into a wicked grin. Dean had turned to look at Sam then, but Sam was merely looking back at her with a completely puzzled expression as he continued the exorcism.

“Have you told him about Jessica?”

Those six words made Sam stop, and as Dean was already looking at Sam, he’d managed to see the transient look of realization and horror that suddenly flashed across his brother’s face before his features instantly hardened and his eyes narrowed to glare down at the women.

Dean immediately picked up where Sam left off on in the exorcism and the demon turned to look at him instead.

“And Dean—oh, you poor boy, has your brother even told you that he was planning on marrying that little girlfriend of his?”

The words were like an abrupt, sharp punch to the gut and caused him to falter, but Dean only flexed his jaw in determination for a split second before he forced himself to look away and continue on with the exorcism.

“But poor Sam,” the demon cooed as he eyes remained fixed on Dean, “he felt so lost. He didn’t know what to do. Not when his aching heart was telling him to do something entirely different.” 

Heart now racing, Dean dared to turn back towards Sam for a moment and saw just how tense and furious his brother really was. 

What the hell was the demon trying to say?

“My poor Sammy,” she averted her gaze towards Sam again, sending him a pitiful look, “would you have ever told your brother the truth?” 

But when Sam offered no reply, she merely continued.

“Oh, how heartbreaking it must’ve been,” a smirk twisted across her face, her black eyes glittering dangerously as they eyed Sam carefully, “to try and couple yourself with such a lie when what you _really_ want is to be with your br—”

When Sam abruptly surged forwards and wrapped a hand around her neck to cut her off, Dean’s voice faltered yet again, completely taken by surprise by Sam’s response.

“Shut up!” Sam roared. 

As Dean started at Sam’s back, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he was missing—what had caused his little brother to suddenly act so harshly? What the hell did the demon know that he didn’t? 

Just the thought that Sam might’ve possibly been planning on marrying Jessica had hurt more than Dean would ever admit. But now, the demon was implying that Sam was possibly keeping something _else_ from him?

“Dean!” Sam yelled with his hand still around the demon’s neck, snapping Dean out of his thoughts and right back into their current situation. 

It took Dean a moment to realize he’d completely stopped reciting the exorcism, that Sam was the one now reciting it, his little brother’s voice loud and full of anger as the words fell from his lips. Dean looked at the demon as her face contorted in pain and joined Sam, his voice now indifferent as he recited the words mechanically. 

When they finally finished the exorcism, leaving an unconscious, but thankfully still alive, women in the chair, Sam had immediately begun to untie her from the chair.

But from that point on, even after they’d eventually managed to return the women back to her home, Dean found himself feeling almost numb, as if the world around him was hazy and muted. Because all Dean could now think about were the words the demon had spoken. 

They repeated in his mind on a loop and Dean couldn’t help but wonder. 

Had Sam really been planning to marry Jessica? 

Or had the demon merely lied?

Dean desperately wished he could believe otherwise, that the demon had merely been lying to provoke his little brother—and Dean knew it wouldn’t be a stretch, because he knew demons did lie most of the time. 

But Dean knew Sam too well—Sam’s reaction to the words alone had been enough.

The demon hadn’t been lying when she’d uttered those words. 

And that awareness gnawed at Dean's heart—he tried to ignore the hurt that seemed to nestle in his chest. He wouldn't think about _why_ —he couldn't. Not now. Now ever.

Those feelings, those thoughts—they were merely the lingering remnants of a life long gone that Dean had hopelessly been trying to forget long before the night Sam had left to Stanford. 

 

After that incident with the demon in Salem, Dean had tried to act as if he hadn't heard those words, as if they hadn't flipped his world completely upside down. Sam had said nothing either, and Dean figured his little brother was fine with them leaving the entire matter alone.

But with each passing day, Dean found that no matter how much he tried to forget, no matter how much he tried to ignore the demon's words and their implications, the words were seared into Dean's mind. 

Dean hated how he couldn’t even look at his little brother the same anymore. 

Because now, even though Jessica was gone, all Dean could see was Sam smiling and married to her, them living in their own house somewhere nice and wearing wedding rings. And knowing this was what his brother wanted, that he likely would’ve never told Dean the truth if that demon hadn’t spilled his secret instead, it made his heart ache. It pained him to know that Sam really hadn’t wanted to continue hunting. That Dean had just gone in and pulled— _forced_ —his brother back into the fray and had inadvertently helped to tear apart his little brother's hopes and dreams. 

And all because Dean had _missed_ Sam, because he’d been selfish and craved to see his little brother again, to have him close, to be able to— 

_No._

Dean wouldn’t allow his mind to go back there again. Especially not now, not when everything just felt so painfully and irrevocably wrong between them. 

 

• • •

 

Dean took a seat and rested his arms on top of the bar. “Hey!” Dean called out, trying to get the attention of the bartender. He raised his left arm slightly. “Can I get a shot of tequila here?”

The bartender looked at him and nodded before moving to get Dean’s drink.

Seconds later, Dean downed the small drink he’d been given and dropped the empty shot glass back on the table. He made eye contact with the bartender and asked, “Can I get another?”

The man eyed him for a second before he poured some more tequila into the tiny shot glass.

As Dean downed the second shot, he couldn’t help but wonder how he could make the pain in his chest go away, how he could possibly make things right again between him and Sam when just being near his brother now only made his heart feel like it was being torn apart.

 

• • •

 

“You can do this,” Dean assured himself as he took a deep breath and make sure the Impala’s doors were locked. “Just walk in there and say you’re tired as hell and want to go to sleep.” 

With that, Dean took one last deep breath of air and finally made his way towards their motel room. When he reached for the doorknob, he twisted it, expecting the door to be locked so he could knock on the door and ask Sam to open it for him since he’d left the motel keys with Sam. But to his surprise, when he twisted the doorknob, he found that the door was unlocked. 

“Sam?” Dean called out as he pushed the motel door open, but he there came no response. Dean quickly scanned the room. Everything looked to be in place, but something about the room felt _off._

“Sam?” Dean repeated as he shut the door quietly behind him. He reached into his front pant pocket and pulled out a silver butterfly knife and quickly flipped it open and spoke again, “You here?”

Again, there was only silence.

He let his eyes survey the room again as he began walking slowly towards the closed bathroom door towards the back of the room. But as he moved around, he quickly took notice that a few things were actually missing—Sam’s duffel and laptop were gone.

And that’s when Dean took notice of a small folded paper on the tiny nightstand between the room’s two small beds. He closed and pocketed his knife, a feeling of unease slowly creeping down his back as he walked over to the nightstand to pick up the paper.

As soon as he unfolded the paper, he found himself looking at Sam’s handwriting.

> _Went to check things out at Capitol State Forest._  
>  _I’ll be back soon._  
>  _Sam_

“Goddammit,” Dean breathed out. For a moment, at the realization that no one had in fact broken into their room and taken Sam, he relaxed slightly. But there was still an uneasy feeling in his gut, a nagging worry in the back of his mind telling him there was still something wrong.

He gazed at the paper a while longer, his eyes trailing Sam’s handwriting, until he finally let out a deep sigh and folded the paper back up and placed it back on the nightstand. Dean reached into his front jacket pocket and pulled out his cellphone. He turned it on and then quickly dialed Sam’s number. 

By the time the line rang three times, Dead was worried. Sam was punctual when it came to answering his phone. The only times Sam wasn’t was when he was busy or indisposed and thus incapable of actually answering. Knowing this, with each additional unanswered ring, Dean felt his chest constrict tighter and tighter. 

“Hey, Sam, call me back,” Dean began after he finally heard Sam’s voicemail, his voice wavering slightly before he paused to quietly clear his throat, “I’m on my way over to to the damned forest, so stay there and wait for me before you go and do something stupid, got it?”

With that, he ended the call and stuffed his phone back into the front pocket of his jacket. Dean gave one last glance around the room before he let out a small sigh and left. 

 

When Dean finally arrived at the entrance to the Capitol State Forest, he took notice of an old, rusty car sitting off to the side of the road. He parked the Impala a few meters behind it and reached into the glove compartment to pull out a flashlight. He turned it on and got out of the Impala, making sure to lock the door behind him. 

When Dean finally began walking towards the small car, a feeling of dread washed over him.

“Sam?” he called out, his voice surprisingly steady. “You here?”

There was no response. 

Dean walked up to the car and attempted to open the door on the diver’s side but the door was locked. But when he pointed the flashlight at the window to see inside, he took notice of a familiar object resting at the foot of the driver’s seat—it was Sam’s duffle bag. 

He took in a deep breath of air and tried to calm his already racing heart as he switched the flashlight over to his left hand and used his right to reach into his pocket for his phone again. He dialed Sam’s number once more. The line rang and rang until it finally went to voicemail, just like before. 

“Sam,” Dean spoke into the phone, his voice stern, yet filled with worry as he looked around the empty spot, “where the fuck are you? Why aren’t you answering your phone? Call me back as soon as you hear this. I’m already here at the entrance to the Capitol State Forest.” 

He hung up and shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket. 

For a moment, Dean pondered staying in the Impala and merely waiting for Sam to turn up. But a niggling thought in the back of his mind wouldn’t leave him alone, and Dean couldn’t help but feel restless at not knowing where Sam was. 

Finally making up his mind, Dean let out a shuddering breath and made his way towards the Impala’s trunk. He opened it and pulled out a small handgun and quickly tucked it into the back of his pants before he closed the trunk back again and locked it. 

He looked around briefly one last time before he moved the flashlight to light the space before him as he began making his way into the forest. 

 

• • •

 

Nearly an hour had elapsed since Dean began searching for Sam, and even after calling his brother more than a dozen times on his cell, Dean still had yet to hear back from Sam. Only increasing Dean’s worry from before. 

“Sam,” Dean warned as he spoke into his cell, even though the line had just begun to rung, “I swear, if you somehow happened to misplace your cell phone, or if you put it on silent, I’m going to—” 

Dean immediately fell quiet when he suddenly began to hear a distant, familiar ringing. Without hesitating, Dean began to run towards the source of the sound. But the sight that greeted him when he finally reached the source of the ringing seemed to make Dean’s heart come to a complete halt.

Sam’s phone was on the ground.

His heart was racing, and over the ringing of Sam’s phone, Dean could only hear the rushing of blood in his ears. Dean immediately hung up and the ringing stopped. 

“No, please, no…” Dean whispered each word between each heavy exhale. He bent down and grabbed Sam’s phone and with one last look at it, he stuffed it into his pocket to join his own phone. 

“Sam?” Dean shouted as he got back up, his heart thudding rapidly inside his tight chest. He called out Sam’s name again and began looking around the surrounding area. Only stopping when the light of his flashlight seemed to catch on something metallic on the ground a few meters away from where Sam’s phone had been. When he rushed over towards the reflective object on the ground, he felt his chest constrict painfully when he finally saw what it was. It was one of Sam’s handguns. 

Dean quickly reached down to pick the gun off the ground. 

“Sam!” He called out yet again, his voice threatening to break. “Come on, man, where are you?” 

But there was still no response, only the heavy silence of the forest. 

“Sam!” Dean yelled as his eyes continued scanning the area around him, frantically searching for any sign of his little brother. His chest feeling heavy and his heart like something was clenching it tighter and tighter. 

“Sammy!” 

When the realization finally hit him moments later, Dean felt like all the air in his lungs had been knocked out, like he couldn’t breathe, like his knees might give way at any moment and send him toppling to the ground.

Sam was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I apologize for taking forever to post this chapter. orz But, at last, here is chapter three—and right on Halloween! There are some small warnings for this chapter (for one, beware the angst—my heart ached quite a bit as I wrote this chapter), so if you’d like to know ahead of time what exactly is going to happen, please read the author’s note at the end of this chapter. 
> 
> And, as always, if you liked this chapter (despite the angst—I’m so sorry orz), please leave me a comment down below! ♥

Sam opened his eyes. 

The world around him was dark, cold, and eerily silent. 

His head throbbed in pain, and though Sam could sense that he wasn’t moving, a wave of nauseous dizziness still washed over him. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let himself be pulled back into unconsciousness. 

 

The next time Sam opened his eyes, the world before him was bright, warm—for a moment the world around him was silent yet again, but then there was a voice. It was muted, muddy, as if he were hearing it underwater. It took Sam a while to realize the voice was calling his name. 

“Sam?” The voice was gentle, soft and oddly familiar. “Sam, are you alright?” 

The world before him fell into focus, and a moment after it did, a familiar face framed by long, curly blond hair came into view. When Sam realized who the voice and face belonged to, he felt all the air leave his lungs. 

_Jess._

“Sam? Can you hear me?”

_This can’t be real._

“Jess?” Sam managed to croak out, his throat felt scratchy, dry. 

There was a furrow between her brows. “Can you sit up?” 

It took Sam a few seconds to move his body so he could sit up, and when he did, he realized he was sitting in the center of a large bed in an unfamiliar room, and Jess was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him. 

“Where— What happened?” Sam asked as he continued looking around the room with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

“I came home to find you passed out in the kitchen,” Jessica answered with a frown. “I had to call Brady and Matthew over a while ago so we could bring you up here. I thought about taking you to a hospital, but Brady told me you likely just pasted out from exhaustion, that I should let you rest and to make sure you ate something after you woke up.” 

“Oh,” Sam replied after a moment, feeling dazed and confused and very unsure of what else to say. 

“I’ll be back in a bit with something light for you to eat,” Jess got up, “don’t move, alright?”

“Alright.” 

With that, Jess turned around and left the room. 

Part of Sam wanted to get up and explore. This place didn’t look anything at all like the apartment he’d shared with Jess back in Stanford. It was completely unfamiliar and it made Sam feel uncomfortable, as if he was somewhere he shouldn’t be, but his body felt weary, as if he had indeed passed out from exhaustion as Jess had mentioned, so Sam merely looked around the room as best as he could. 

Everything in the room appeared quite normal, almost plain to his eyes, but the more Sam looked around, the more unsettled he felt, because everything seemed to call out to him, whispering that this was _his_ room. Yet there was no spark of recognition in Sam, no feeling of belonging, no feeling of yes, this is indeed my room and I feel safe here. Rather, the more Sam took in the room he was in, the more he felt like he was inside some stranger’s room, like he was trespassing. It made Sam want to get up and leave, but after seeing Jess here, he knew he had to stay and figure out what the hell had happened to him. 

With a shaky sigh, Sam turned to his right and took notice of the phone that was resting on top of the nightstand. With a quick glance towards the door, Sam grabbed the phone and tried to turn it on, only to see that the phone required a password to unlock it. It took Sam two tries to unlock it with the numbers for his own birthday. 

For a moment, Sam considered looking through the pictures on the phone, to get a better glimpse of the life he had in this odd place he was now in, but a pressing thought in the back of his mind made Sam look at his contacts instead. He scrolled through them all in less than three seconds, only to find that there were no contacts under the name ‘John Winchester’, or even ‘Dean Winchester’. He looked through his contacts once more but still came up empty. 

“Sam?” The voice startled Sam, making him quickly lock the phone again before he turned to look up at Jess as she stood at the doorway with a plate in one hand and a cup in the other. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah,” Sam was quick to reply, “just…looking at the time.” 

The way Jess’s brows pinched together immediately told Sam that Jess didn’t believe him, but she seemed to brush it aside because she merely walked over to him and placed the plate and cup on the nightstand to his right. Sam regarded the sandwich on the plate silently, feeling absolutely no desire whatsoever to eat at that moment. 

Before Sam could rethink his decision, he took in a small breath of air before he quietly asked, “Hey, uh, Jess? Do you know where Dean is?” 

“Dean?” Jess’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you mean your brother?”

“Yes, I…” Sam paused to swallow. “I, uh, checked my phone, but I didn’t see his name on here, or my Dad’s.” 

“Brady said it was possible you might’ve accidentally hit your head when you collapsed,” Jess bit her lip as she stared at Sam, “maybe I should call him back so he can come check on you again.” 

“No!” Sam quickly replied. “Please, don’t. I just—”

“Sam,” Jess cut Sam off with a slight frown, “you don’t talk to Dean or John anymore. You haven’t since you told me that John kicked you out and told you to never come back after you told him about Stanford.” 

“Oh,” Sam felt his heart clench, “right, yeah, sorry, I think I just got confused for a moment there.” 

“Right,” Jess merely continued staring at Sam with a pensive frown for a moment before she gave a sigh, “well, I’m going to head on out now that you’re okay. Like I mentioned earlier, I made plans to hang out with Michelle and Drew tonight. I probably won’t be coming back until tomorrow morning. If you need anything, just call me, alright?”

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

“Or—would you prefer I stay with you tonight?” Jess asked as she eyed Sam carefully.

Something about Jess staying with him, when everything in Sam’s mind screamed that this wasn’t all _wrong_ and that this wasn’t the Jess he knew, deeply disconcerted Sam. “No, uh, it’s alright, Jess. I feel fine now. You should go out and have fun with your friends.” 

“Right,” Jess let out a breath of air, and though Sam had no idea why, she appeared frustrated, “of course you wouldn’t want me to stay with you.” Yet before Sam could even dare say anything in response, Jess quickly added in a sharp voice, “You know, Sam, I talked to Michelle and Drew about it, and Matthew and Brady too some time ago, and they all agree with me. We’re _married_ now, Sam, and you still won’t even have sex with me! We don’t even sleep in the same room! Do you know how embarrassing that is?” 

The words that fell from Jess’ lips in a frustrated rush were completely unexpected, but as soon as they reached Sam, he felt his blood run cold as his gut gave a sharp, uncomfortable lurch. “I…” 

“Oh, don’t even start again with all that ‘I’m asexual’ crap, Sam,” Jess barked out, “I don’t buy it. How can you _not_ feel sexual attraction? As stupid as it might be, I can even understand someone wanting to wait until after they get married to have sex, but we’re already married, Sam—I’m your _wife_! So this whole excuse of ‘asexuality’? Please.” Jess sneered. “Honestly, I’d more believe that fact that you’re secretly gay and in the closet than you being ‘asexual’. You know, sometimes I wonder why I ever said yes to your proposal to begin with, I should’ve known something was wrong with you from the moment you lied to me and said you wanted to wait until after we got married to have sex.” 

Once Jess stopped speaking, Sam could only look away, feeling unable to look at her at that moment. He didn’t dare speak, feeling like the moment he tried to, he might just fall apart. The words Jess had thrown at him _hurt_ —it was as if she’d reached into his mind, found each of his fears in regards to his sexuality, and had thrown them right back at him in hopes of pulling him down, of tearing him apart. 

And it was working. 

“You have nothing to say?” Jess narrowed her eyes at him, and when Sam said nothing, she merely rolled her eyes. “Right. Well, whatever, I’m leaving now. And you know what? I change my mind, if you need anything, call Brady or Matthew or whoever you want, just don’t call me, alright?” Jess didn’t bother waiting for Sam to reply, she merely shook her head before she turned around and walked out of the room. A heavy silence followed and was only interrupted seconds later by a door being slammed shut.

Everything fell quiet once more, even Sam’s own thoughts seemed to come to a stop, his mind now blank and eerily silent as if unable to process and rationalize the even that just occurred. Though Sam could still distantly recognize the way his body was still thrumming with anxiety, how he could feel the way his heart was beating frantically, the way his chest felt incredibly tight, the way his lungs felt heavy and begged him to just _breathe_. 

Instead, Sam closed his eyes and continued sitting there. It wasn’t until several minutes later that he seemed to come back to himself. He raised a trembling hand up to his face and was shocked to find that he’d been crying. Though his throat felt dry, Sam swallowed and hastily wiped away his tears. 

Everything about this was so _wrong_ —Sam _knew_ it wasn’t real, that it _couldn’t_ be. Jess was gone, and even if she was still alive, Sam knew the entire situation from before would never have been possible; Jess had been the most understanding and supportive person about his asexuality once he’d come out to her. The only logical explanation for all this, Sam figured, was that it was all some sort of _twisted_ dream that he was somehow trapped in. But the thought was of little comfort to Sam, for even so, he had no idea how the hell he came to be here, much less how to get out. The last thing Sam could faintly recall was that he’d been in a forest. He’d written a note for Dean, saying he was going to search for something there, yet Sam’s mind pulled a blank when he tried to remember what exactly he’d been searching for in that forest.

It was then, as he pulled himself from his fragmentary memories, that Sam couldn’t ignore the thought that’d been pressing in the back of his mind since he woke up and looked through his phone’s contacts. 

Knowing what he was going to do, Sam inhaled and got up from the bed. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and pocketed into the back pocket of his jeans. With one last glance at the unfamiliar room he’d been in, he turned and left. 

It took Sam a few minutes to figure out the layout of the house he was in, and after searching the living room, he’d managed to find some car keys in a shallow bowl on the small coffee table in front of the long, dark sofa in the spacious area. There’d only been a moment of hesitation before his resolve strengthened and Sam made his way out of the house to find the car the keys belonged to. 

 

It’d taken Sam nearly two days to get where we was today. He’d managed to find and contact Bobby hours after he’d left his apartment, and, amazingly, while the older man had berated Sam for leaving those years ago, for never attempting to contact him, much less his own family, he’d still been kind enough to give Sam the information necessary to find his older brother after Sam had pleased to Bobby, in near tears, that he needed to find Dean right away. 

Now, it was nearly midnight, and though Sam was completely exhausted from all the driving from Palo Alto to the address in Texas Bobby had given him, Sam was sitting down in his car across the street from a small, one-story house. 

Steeling himself for what he was about to do, Sam took a deep breath before he finally got out of the car and slowly began walking towards the front door of the house. Once he was at the door, Sam couldn’t help but hesitant for a few seconds before he raised a trembling hand to knock three times on the door. 

Feeling too overwrought, with the way his heart was racing and the way his chest ached as if he was painfully out of breath, Sam wondered if he might actually fall over and collapse. But the moment he raised his hand to nervously tug at the collar of his shirt, he noticed the doorknob being turned. Instantly, Sam froze and held his breath. 

“What the hell do—” the familiar voice began but soon stopped once the door was fully opened. 

The sight of Dean standing less than two feet away from him rendered Sam speechless, feeling more like all the air in his lungs had been punched out, leaving him lightheaded as a result. But even so, a faint voice inside Sam’s mind was yelling, was crying that even if this was all a dream, Dean was still _here_ , that he wouldn’t be alone anymore. 

“Dean…” the name slipped past his lips before he could hold it back. 

But then Dean’s features twisted and instantly Sam felt his own heart break. Because Dean’s face seemed to just close off, his features turning cold yet still disgruntled. And when his brother spoke, his words were flat, “Sam. What the hell are you doing here?” 

Sam felt his heart clench at his brother’s aloof posture and behavior. “I, uh— I was just—”

But an unfamiliar, distant voice interrupted Sam before he could continue, “Dean! Who’s at the door? Can’t you tell them to get lost? We were just about to—” But as soon as Sam saw who the voice belonged to, his heart tightened. It was a beautiful young woman in a short, strapless black dress with long, wavy black hair, and clear brown eyes. 

“Oh,” the woman regarded Sam with narrowed eyes, “what do you want?” 

“I…” An all too familiar feeling coiled deep in Sam’s stomach as he abruptly realized what he might’ve just interrupted. “Maybe—”

But this time it was Dean who cut him off, “What the hell do you want, Sam?” 

Sam’s eyes snapped back to Dean.

“Do you know him?” the women asked.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean scoffed, “Carmen, this is my little brother Sam.” 

Carmen’s brows pulled together in confusion. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“Not for seven years, I haven’t.” 

The words from Dean made Sam feel like he’d been slapped across the face. 

“Well, look, Dean, I know we were going to have a special night tonight, but I don’t want to interrupt you two. We’ll just have to reschedule our little date for another night, alright?” Yet before Dean could even give her a reply, Carmen turned and walked back into the house. But seconds later she came back with a purse in her hands. When she leaned up and placed a kiss on Dean’s lips, Sam quickly averted his gaze.

As Carmen walked away, leaving Dean and Sam standing right outside the opened door, a thick silence followed. 

“I’m sorry for…” unable to yet meet Dean’s gaze, Sam fixed his eyes on the collar of Dean’s black shirt, “interrupting you two. I would’ve called ahead of time, but—” 

“You don’t have my number,” Dean cut him off, voicing the words Sam knew he would’ve been unable to actually say. Then, Dean let out an exasperated breath of air before he said, sounding almost tired, “What the hell are you doing here, Sam? What do you want?” 

“I…” Sam tried to think of a plausible lie to tell his brother, but when none immediately came to mind, he merely let out a tiny exhale before he said in a quiet voice, “I wanted to see you.” 

The silence that followed was suffocating, and Sam swore he could hear his racing heartbeat echoing in his ears. When Dean said nothing several seconds later, Sam dared to finally look at Dean’s face, only to see that his brother was watching him with such an inscrutable expression. 

“Would it—” Sam cut himself off and tried again, “Can I stay here tonight? I… I really don’t want to drive all the way back.” _And be with Jess,_ the words remains unsaid, but they were loud and panicked in Sam’s mind. 

The next few seconds of absolute silence seemed to stretch forever yet again as Dean merely stared at Sam through narrowed eyes. It was completely unnerving, as if Dean was looking not just at him, but right into his very soul and mind and was attempting to read his thoughts. But it was the slight hint of irritation written all over his features that made Sam’s body thrum with unease—Dean had never looked at him with an expression like that before, as if he was trying to figure Sam out, but was clearly displeased with his presence to begin with. 

Sam wanted nothing more than to cower, to hide himself from his older brother’s piercing gaze. 

He never wanted Dean to look at him like this again. 

“Alright,” Dean finally said at last with an exasperated sigh as he averted his eyes, “you can stay, but you’re gonna have to take the sofa, got it?”

“Of course,” Sam immediately replied, thankful that his brother had finally looked away. “Thank you, Dean.” 

“Right,” Dean turned around, “well, given that it’s so late, I’m gonna go hit the hay now. Since you’ll be sleeping in the living room, feel free to turn off the lights whenever you want.” 

“Okay,” Sam watched Dean walk away, his older brother not even bothering to turn back around before he reached the door to his room, “good night, Dean.”

“Night,” and with that, Dean shut the door behind him. 

The faint click of the door being locked reached Sam’s ears and it felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him. Dean had locked the door. The only door between them, the only thing separating them, and he’d closed it and _locked_ it. 

It was an obvious gesture that instantly told Sam that Dean didn’t trust him, that his brother wanted to create a legitimate barrier between them, and it made Sam’s heart constrict. Dean had never done this before, not when they’d been arguing, not when Dean was pissed at Sam, not even now when things were uncomfortably tense between them. It’d become an unspoken sign of trust between them, that despite whatever was happening, doors would never be locked between them in case the other ever needed anything. They hardly ever slept in separate rooms to start with, but when they did, an unlocked door meant— _even when things are shit between us, I’m still your brother, and if you ever need anything, I’ll be right here, just open the door and I’ll be by your side._

Sam let out a shuddering breath before he walked over to the sofa and turned on the tiny lap resting on the small table next to it. Then after he made his way to turn off the light in the living room, he walked back and sat down on the sofa. 

He sat there for a few minutes, trying to ignore the stinging in this eyes as he thought back to everything that’d happened since he’d woken up. 

When Sam finally lay down on the sofa, every muscle in body warning him that sleeping here would only bring pain come morning, he closed his eyes and prayed that everything would end, that once he woke up come tomorrow, he’d be free of this dream and back in his motel room with Dean— _his_ Dean—and everything would be as it was before. 

Because in that moment, Sam found he’d much rather have his Dean, who couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him, than this version of Dean who’d openly glare at him with genuine anger and loathing in his eyes. 

 

When Sam opened up his eyes, he sat up and glanced around only to see that he was still in this Dean’s living room. 

He was still caught in this warped dream. 

A wave of disappointment and apprehension washed over him, and for a split second, Sam pondered getting up and leaving. Though a few ideas came to mind as to where he might go, Sam still couldn’t bear the idea of leaving Dean now—even this cruel, fictitious version of his older brother. The thought of being utterly alone in this nightmare only made the fluttering unease in the pit of his stomach swell. 

Pushing the thoughts away, another idea came to mind. With a tired sigh, Sam got up, stretched, and then made his way towards Dean’s kitchen. 

Nearly twenty minutes later, as Sam was finishing up the food he’d managed to cooked up, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned to find Dean standing against a wall, glaring at him. 

Despite feeling rather unsettled, Sam swallowed and tried to give Dean a smile, “Good morning, Dean. I hope it’s alright that I made breakfast. I, uh, wanted to thank you for letting me stay with you last night.” 

“Right,” Dean’s harsh gaze remained fixed on Sam, and Sam found that the longer Dean glared at him, the more he wanted to look away in hurt, shame. The scoff that reached his ears when Dean rolled his eyes finally forced Sam to look away, a heavy feeling settling deep in his chest, “Guess I forgot this was your place to do with whatever you please.” 

Dean’s sharp words knocked the air right out of Sam’s lungs. 

“I…” Sam tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. “Dean, I’m sorry, I didn’t— I just wanted to—”

But Dean merely cut him off. “Look, fine, whatever. I don’t appreciate you just walking into my place and acting like you have the right to just do whatever you want. But I should’ve expected this.” Then Dean fixed Sam with a sharp scowl before he scoffed and looked away. “This is classical you, doing whatever the hell you want without consideration for others.”

Suddenly, Sam found he didn’t want to be in the kitchen anymore. Not when he felt like he was on the verge of coming apart at the seams. 

“Hey, Dean, uh,” Sam prayed his voice didn’t waver as he spoke, “where’s the restroom? I— I didn’t ask you last night.” 

“It’s right next door to my room,” Dean replied as he finally took a seat at the table. “Feel free to use it, but don’t even think about going into my room, or anywhere else for that matter without my permission, got it?” 

“Yes, I understand,” was Sam’s quiet, tenuous reply. “I’m sorry for what I did, Dean, I should’ve asked if I could use your kitchen. But, uh… I hope you like the food.” 

Feeling like Dean wasn’t going to give him a reply, Sam carefully walked away and made his way towards the restroom. Once he was inside, Sam closed and locked the door behind him. The silence in the small room only served to further fray Sam’s nerves, so he turned on the water in sink. As a wave of weariness overcame Sam, he pulled down the toilet seat cover and sat down. He leaned forwards until his elbows were resting near his knees and his head was in his hands. 

More than anything, Sam wished he could pull himself out of whatever hell this was, of this _nightmare_ he was trapped in. He had hoped finding and seeing Dean here would help, but it only seemed to make everything worse, because it seemed like this Dean _hated_ him. And the revelation only made Sam’s heart clench and quiver in anguish and despair.

 _Later today,_ Sam thought to himself, _I’ll go find the nearest library and start doing some research. I’ll figure out what happened to me and find a way to get myself out of here._

But the thought was of little comfort to Sam at that moment. Instead, Sam’s mind contemplated something else. 

Had his Dean seen the note he’d left in their motel room?

Did Dean know that Sam was missing? 

Was his older brother somewhere out there, in the real world, looking for him? 

If he was, would Dean be able to find him and rescue him? 

Was it even possible for Sam to be pulled out of this nightmare? 

Did Dean even _care_ that Sam was gone? 

Or was Dean too busy relishing the fact that he didn’t have to be in the same room as Sam anymore?

Sam closed his eyes and finally let the tears he’d been holding back fall from his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning(s) for this chapter:** there will (finally) be mentions of Sam being ace/asexual, but there will be someone trying to invalidate his sexuality—or, someone trying to tell Sam there is no such thing as being ace, along with saying some pretty cruel things to him about his asexuality.
> 
> Lastly, please feel free to come talk to me [on tumblr](https://rhyaenv.tumblr.com/)! I tend to give a heads-up on when I might be updating certain fics, and I also post a few photo-edits and ficlets here and there. ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated! You can also find me on Tumblr as [rhyaenv](https://rhyaenv.tumblr.com/). ♥


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